Daggers of Ice

Chapter 24

The Western Mountains.

Arianna.

Blinking up at Edmund's face, Arianna felt something strange roll through her. His dark eyes were intent on hers and she saw nothing else.

Then her eyes fluttered closed once more, a sigh escaping her lips.

Her body ached and her mind grew heavy.

Images began to flash through her mind.

Getting the dryad to identify the flower she'd taken from the faun – a strange flower which grew only on slopes of the mountains to the west, mountains that felt like death and fire. Trekking through the Western Wolves, the two werewolves flanking her as they ran.

She had been the first to glimpse the black castle amidst the rocky outcrops, though she had felt it long before she had seen it, the heat enveloping her with its overwhelming presence. The guards had not been expecting them, it had been all too easy to slice through the crimson-eyed men, watching their blood spray across the dark rocks.

One they had kept alive long enough to show them the entrance.

But his body, too, lay where he had fallen, staring up lifeless at the entrance to the castle.

It had been simple to find the dungeons, descending deeper and deeper into the mountain. The wolves had fallen, their pained whimpers echoing in her minds. And Edmund had not been there.

She had let them capture her then, in the hopes that they would take her to their master. And oh, how they had delivered.

He had stood there, gleefully, in his cloak of black, surrounded by flames.

She had begun to formulate a plan, of how she would attack him. Of how she would knock out the guards first, she would waste little time on them, saving her energy for the sorcerer. She would bide her time, to get him talking.

But then he had struck Edmund.

Her Edmund.

And her vision had flared with red and she knew little else after that.

She opened her eyes once more, adjusting to the dim light around them.

His fingers skimmed over her cheek, though strangely they did not feel warm. "Ari?"

She sat up, too fast and her world spun, a strangled groan escaping her lips as she fell back against him. It was too hot; it was draining her. Her breath came in short pants, her eyes squeezed shut. She had failed; both herself and Edmund. She had failed to free him and gotten herself captured as well as her two guards killed. She imagined Jadis would be laughing at her through that mirror she could no longer pass through.

At least if she died, Jadis would too.

She felt Edmund hands on her arms, as if to steady her. Or to hold her together for she no longer could. "Steady," he told her. It was not a whisper, nor a lover's caress, but instantly she felt herself righted. "Don't move, you've been unconscious for almost a day. I think."

A day.

She opened her eyes once more.

She could not sleep, for fear she would not wake up. The very air was suffocating her; too dry. She needed water. But Corradyn wanted her dead; she would not be given any. And without it she would lose all her strength. "Do not let me sleep," she whispered.

He would not, she knew. For he was the Just King; and the Just King of Narnia would not let a prisoner die. "Just keep talking to me," he said, his hand on her cheek once more. "Tell me something."